


First Mission

by moonstruckfool



Series: Inktober [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dragons, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-09-17 12:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16974822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckfool/pseuds/moonstruckfool
Summary: Inktober day 3: Roasted





	First Mission

A curly-haired, freckled lad of eighteen rolled up the sleeves of his oversized khaki shirt yet again and pulled on the reins of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. With some difficulty, he managed to ease his wand out of his pocket without falling off his mount.

"Protego!"

He'd been told that this wasn't necessary, but damned if he'd fly back from his first mission with an arrow in his arm or a broken nose. Said mission was to fly to one of the enemy's military bases, take down as many people and buildings as possible, and then report back, preferably without being killed on the way. It was absolutely ridiculous to send a rookie on a solo assignment, but the British Wizarding Armed Forces were low on troops, so although Theseus had argued on his behalf, they were sending him out and that was the end of it.

Anyway, it didn't sound too hard. It wasn't as if he hadn't been trained and prepared for this. 

He flew over the barren fields of no-mans-land,  weaving in and out of the clouds and occasionally dipping lower to assure himself that he was headed in the right direction. 

As grey warehouses came into his line of sight, a small burst of flame erupted from the ground in the distance. He leaned slightly forward - perhaps a gun firing, probably not dangerous.

And then was nearly thrown off as the dragon reared up, roaring in pain as a shell exploded in her face. 

"Hey, hey, girl, easy."

She paid him no heed, thrashing around violently. They had dropped several yards down, and he tried uselessly to get her higher while she spurted flames at some unseen enemy. 

They'd blinded her! Some marksman on the ground must be congratulating himself on his spectacular aim while they struggled three thousand feet above to stay airborne.  

There was no hope for her - they'd have to make an emergency landing. 

Later, he would marvel at how on earth he'd managed to get a spooked twenty-tonne beast onto the ground without falling off or being smashed to bits, all the while still maintaining his Protego shield. 

But now he cared none for celebrating his feat, for the dragon could evidently not get off the ground again (and probably never would, he realized with a stab of guilt and pity) and he was stranded in unfamiliar, dangerous territory with no way back. His wand held out in front of him, he attempted to calm the enraged creature, for fear that she would hurt herself more by stomping around; he hadn't been able to ascertain if she'd been injured in their less-than-smooth landing. 

She swung her head around, somehow still tormented by invisible assailants. He hadn't even had time to assess the damage done to her eyes when she inhaled deeply, and a huge jet of flame spewed out of the gigantic jaws and towards him.

There was a terrific crack as the fire busted through the magical shield and hit him full in the chest. He shrieked as the front of his shirt burst into flames and the white-hot heat engulfed him. Somehow, in the haze of searing pain, a single coherent thought occurred to him - it's a muggle thing will it work with dragon fire - and he dropped to the ground, rolling over and over on his side, frantically trying to extinguish the fire. The flames, if anything, became even more fierce, and he finally stopped moving, exhausted, breaths coming in ragged gasps. The world was a blur around him, and the sounds of the poor, confused dragon seemed faraway. He whimpered as his skin began to blister, the fire failing to cease, and pleaded with no one in particular to save him - anything, I'll do anything, just take the pain away- the fire soon spread to his bare arms and he no longer had the strength to cry out, biting on his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

At long last, the world turned black, and he sighed in relief as he slipped into blissful oblivion. 


End file.
